Gaara, A Life
by Jaeger Swift
Summary: What happened to Gaara between the first assassination attempt and the chunin exams? These chapters delves more into Gaara's family life, and adaptation ro his new philosophy, carving his own path in Sunagakure.
1. Chapter 1-Newborn

"Go away you **monster**." The child told Gaara as she slammed the door in his face. He felt many things in that first moment afterwards. Hurt, betrayal, anger, confusion. He had tried to do the right thing, had tried to make them see that he was not bad. But they had run, and he was desperate to have some kind of contact, so he grabbed them with his sand. He didn't know that he had hurt one of them, and once he found out he felt really bad about it. After what Yashamaru told him about the wounds of the heart, he had asked for some healing medicine, and took it to the girl's house. That was when she called him a monster and slammed the door into his face. Was he a monster? Weren't monsters,.. Well, more evil than he was? He had never hurt anyone, and as far as he knew, they all avoided him because of something that he had no control over. Something that happened to him before he was even born. Did the deeds of others upon his unborn form make _**him**_ responsible for having a sand spirit inside of him? Was it his fault after all, or was he dealt a bad hand upon conception. He was very confused about it, and often found himself wondering about it all.

He had been walking, reflecting upon his existence when someone brushed up against him. "Watch it you little bra…" He heard, turning to face the source of the voice. Upon seeing Gaara before him, his eyes widen, fear like a stink emanating from his very frame. "You! …. You are….." _**Why?... Those eyes again. **_Gaara thought miserably as the man before him quaked with a fear his young mind could not understand. He saw the child of earlier, look the same, slam the door into his face after calling him a monster. He felt the sand rise up, answering his thoughts of anguish and lashing out towards the man. "H,.. hey!" _**WHY?! **_"AAAAHHH!" The man screamed in horror, pain visible on his face before he was swallowed up by the sand and crushed. Turning, he felt the sand cover him again as he left the body to its own devices. He knew he killed the man, but what good was a life if they kept running from you and never gave you a chance anyway? He was sorely confused, and felt again the ache in his chest that he told Yashamaru about. It had returned and hurt even worse now.

Someone was beside him now. Looking up he saw his father, The Kazekage. He saw the look. Hatred. Anger. Revulsion. Behind him he heard voices. "I..it's Gaara!" Was one. "What,… what happened?" Came another. "Hey! This guy's dead!" Exclaimed a third. Gaara felt himself wince under that gaze, his own eyes narrowing with sorrow, and shame. He couldn't bear it anymore, he looked away from his father's glare, looking right at the ground. He kept going, acting as if the glare did not bother him. In fact, it did. He found himself wanting to be alone, to reflect upon the events of the day. The moon was full, giving a soft glow to the landscape below him. He liked this spot, being higher up than the village, looking down upon them as they went about with their lives. Would he ever have a normal life? _**I knew it. **_He thought to himself miserably. _**It doesn't go well at all. **_Gaara clenched his fists on his shirt, crumping the fabric by his thighs as he began to shake. _**How come**_, he thought as he moved his hands to look at them, studying his palms through blurred eyes, _**only I am such a monster? **_He covered his eyes with his hands, feeling dampness from his eyes coat his fingers. _**What exactly am I? **_ The thought came at the same time as a sob, a word strangled in his throat as he spoke it through tears. "Yashamaru,…." _It's love. _He heard Yashamaru say, telling him how to heal wounds of the heart.

_There is only one thing that can stop such heartache. One thing,….. _A shock ran through his system, causing him to look up as sand flared at his back, forming a turtle like shell, protecting him from sudden Kunai thrown at him. "Huh?" His shock was total, sudden and he felt his tears dry up as he turned, scared and surprised by this attack. More Kunai headed his way, the sand flaring automatically to protect him. Shock and surprise turned to horror, than anger. Gaara's black lidded eyes narrowed, anger filling them as his life flashed before his eyes._** What? Why?**_ The girl shutting the door, calling him a monster. Kids refusing to play with him. His own brother and sister fearing him for no reason. _**ONLY ME! Why me?! **_The unfairness of it all made him bitter, like he swallowed a nasty pill and it made him sullen. His sand lashed out, slamming the attacker into the wall behind them. They were slumped now, laying almost on their back, their head resting against the wall in a spreading pool of their own blood. But who was it? He was almost afraid to find out. He found his feet creeping closer, his heart pounding for fear of who this would-be-assassin might be. _**Who? Why?**_ He questioned in his mind as his hand crept closer to the veil covering the attackers face. His hand gripped the cloth. Pulled away.

Heart pounding, he felt his eyes go wide with who he saw before him. Seeing who his attacker was only raised more questions, and he felt his heart muscles tear and create a new wound, a new rip he feared would never heal, love-cure be damned. "Impressive… Lord Gaara." _**Yashamaru! **_His mind screamed out, the tear in his heart causing so much pain he gripped his chest, falling to his knee's with the crushing weight of what his young mind saw, and comprehended. The finger. The finger was bandaged, proving it was not a clone, or anything but his real Uncle. Uncle Yashamaru just tried to kill him! His hands moved from his chest to grip his head, hands blocking out all sound as he found himself screaming at the top of his lungs, his agony at what had happened. He kept crying, the pain coming in waves that made him dizzy, drove him to his knees, and made him quiver with the pressure of it all. One hand grasping his head, just above his left eye, right hand dropping to the ground, he lifted his tear streaked face to gaze at his uncle. "W,..Why?" He began, sobs strangling his voice as he spoke, making talking difficult. "Why? Why is it,…" He found he could not get the words out, and tried again. "Why you? Why?"

_Love is… care and devotion you feel for the precious ones around you. _"Why?!" _Lord Gaara. You are my precious one Around me! He saw his uncle consider the question, silent for the moments it took for him to ask why so many times. _"Always. You were always… Only you were my." Gaara sobbed, rubbing tired black eyelids with a damp fist. _ "_It was an order." Yashamaru finally said.Gaara felt shock mirror on his face as it swept through him. An order? From who? His father? "I was ordered to assassinate you." The tears did not lessen as he listened, his heart and head throbbing with the sickening realization dawned over him. Before he could ask who, his uncle told him. "By you father, Kazekage-sama." The knowledge made his heart miss a beat, his eyes going wider at the thought of ordering his death. _**My father,….. **_He was starting to feel sick. He covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to be sick at all at such a proclamation. "Uuugh." He couldn't hold it. He felt his mouth open and pulled his hand away, vomiting on the ground in front of him, tears flowing with the bile he spat up. Trembling, he looked up, a line of leftover fluids dribbling down his chin, face smeared with tears and snot from his crying.

"Father?" He heard his shaky voice ask. "Why,.. would he want me dead?" wasn't a father supposed to love his children, no matter what? He found himself hating tears, hating how he felt, sick with grief, tasting bile and snot and tears, wishing this was not happening at all. "You were born,.. to be possessed by the sand Shukaku. Until today, you have been watched over as an experimental subject. However. You are yet unable to control the powers of the living spirit Shukaku. Before long, your existence will become too dangerous to the village itself. We simply couldn't let that happen." That all made sense. He felt his heart calm down, he almost could look his uncle in the eye now, as he digested this information. It was still horrible, but at least it wasn't as bad as cold blooded murder. He did kill after all, moments ago. "Then,.. " He began, thinking of how to word what he wanted to say. "Then,… you had no choice? It was because of father?..." He almost smiled, felt it creep up when Yashamaru interrupted him. "No. You're mistaken." The words shocked him, silenced him and he waited, bile building in his throat again, as he waited for an explanation. "Yes. I did receive Kazekage-sama's order. I could've declined it if I wanted to." His felt his eyes go wider, the shock causing another tear to his fragile heart. "Lord Gaara. Deep down inside, I must've always resented you for coming into this world, stealing life away from my dear sister."

Gaara found he could speak, but at least he wasn't going to throw up again. He got control over his stomach finally after listening to his uncle. He thought all was said and done, was going to get up, leave, but his limbs were heavy. Uncle Yashamaru spoke again, causing more wounds to his heart. "I tried my best to love you by thinking of you as her memento, but I couldn't. She never wished to give birth to you. She was sacrificed for this village and therefore died cursing at it." He felt his tears drying up, eyes frozen wide open as he listened, his mind numb. "Perhaps. From that moment on, I've been carrying never-healing emotional scars." The words caused him to remember more of Yashamaru's words. _Unlike physical ones, there is no ointment available for emotional ones. And the pain may never go away. _He heard Yashamaru tell him, the phantom Yashamaru seeming to come from another life, another time. "Your mother gave you your name. This child's name is Gaara, **A Demon That Loves Only Himself!** Love only yourself, and fight only for your sake! She wished and believed that your existence is forever as long as you lived so. But,… she didn't give you the name out of concern or love for you. The name was given to you in the hope of your eternal existence, to let her grudge be carried down and be known to the world. You were never loved!"

His breath caught in his throat, the tears almost dry on his face except by his eyes. His heart hurt so terribly, the beat irregular, each thump an ache to itself. "This is it….. Please die." The explosion was sudden, the blast seen from miles away, deafening any nearby. The sand was automatic, one of the few times Gaara was glad to have the thing inside him. He would live, but what kind of existence was this? All he saw as a rounded wall in front of him, sand protecting him from the blast. Heart heavy, eyes closing, sinking to his knees, he heard Yashamaru's words again in his mind. _I believe she loved you very much…. _He heard his own self ask back, _**Love? **_ Yashamaru again, _its automatic perfect defense is a proof of maternal affection. Your mothers will remained in the sand to protect you. _"U,.. AAAH!: Gaara cried out in agony. _It's love. _"AAAAAHHHHH!" He screamed, feeling the rage building inside him, his eyes narrowing in his sudden, sorrowful induced rage. The sand, a protector, usually never allowing him to feel pain, carved into his forehead, above his left eye a symbol, one he saw as it was branded into his flesh. His hands, before him, were half open, shaking with the force of his pain and rage. Slowly he lowered his hands by his side, head bowed to stare at the ground till the mark in his forehead was finished. Slowly, with half closed eyes, he looked up, the sand finishing its grisly task. _**Love only yourself. And fight only for your Sake. **_ He heard the words echo in his mind, feeling a warm, wetness flowing from his face, over his eye and down his cheek. Blood. His own blood.

"That is,… Gaara. Me." He spoke, an eerie calm emitting from his voice. How rationale he was now. How calm, and angry. How cold-blooded he felt. "I finally understand." _**I am alone. I will not believe anyone, anymore. I will not love. I'm on my own. Ha ha. That's right. I'm all alone. **_ He turned, and calmly started to head home. If his father wanted to start trouble, he was going to receive as much as he dished out. He was not going to let himself be killed, nor was he going to allow this all to pass over as a mere phase. He was going to prove he existed, make people see him, feel him, recognize him! Even if he had to kill to do so. The streets were empty as he walked home, slowly, his eyes taking in every detail. He was home before he knew it. His hand moved to touch the doorknob, paused, then with new resolve grasped it and opened the door. Inside Temari was sitting nearby, and she glanced up. She paled when she saw who it was, and he felt the anger, still raw from earlier, flare up. "G,.. Gaara. You're hurt." She replied, not bothering to get up but pointing out the obvious. Kankuro walked in, freezing in the doorway with a plate of food after spotting Gaara. Why did they all react that way?! He felt his eyes narrow even more. Temari, seeing the look, stood and began to approach Gaara calmly, slowly making her way to him. He used his sand to knock her back, growling the words. "Don't bother. Come near me, and I'll kill you."

The fear in her voice gave him a smug satisfaction, and he turned to head into his room. His room. A cold, bare thing that had nothing on its walls, and only a bed inside. He was still young, and was developing his own sense of style and likes. But he didn't focus on things like that now, not anymore, not ever. His life was going to be very different from now on. Sitting up the bed, feeling tired, he wanted to sleep, and knew he could not. He instead sat for moments, reviewing all that occurred in his mind, eyes welling up with tears over this recent betrayal. After a while he got up, and stood. Walking to the window, he moved the curtain aside, and stared out at the moonlit night. He did not know how long he stood there, but after color started to stain the night sky. Dawn crept forward, extending fingers across the night sky. He never felt so alone, and turning from the window, he went back to his bed. What kind of life was this? What kind of existence was he dealt?

-NOTE: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THEREIN. THIS STORY IS COMPLETELY FICTIONAL, AND IS WRITTEN FOR THE ENOYMENT OF ALL NARUTO FANS EVERYWHERE AND TO 'FILL' GAARA'S HISTORY IN A LITTLE MORE FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO KNOW HIM BETTER.-


	2. Chapter 2-The Plant

_**Things have been strained these last few days; **_Gaara found himself wondering, glancing out the window to his room once more. He rarely left his room except to use the bathroom, and take meals. Even at mealtimes, things were strained. Gaara sat at the head of the table, because their father the Kazekage was always busy. He occasionally glanced at his sister and brother. Kankuro didn't look at them at all, opting instead to play with his food with one hand, make a beginner puppet dance under the table with the other while reading a manual on the Puppeteers squad between bites. Temari sat with her head held high, chin lifted slightly in defiance of both boys. She ate with the air of one who seemed not to care that at the table sat one who could crush her with a mere thought. She was either feigning this knowledge, or secretly scared shitless and not showing it.

He found himself studying them both, from cool indifference, to blatant ignorance, and was analyzing their personalities. He would have to, if he was going to use them for his own devices later in life. What better way to manipulate then to know how they thought and use that information? He remained quiet the first day, opting to try speech the second day and 'feel' how to maneuver his siblings into doing what he wanted, when he wanted. The second day was much more fun than the first. Remembering caused a bitter smile to play across his face, seeing how it all worked out. Kankuro had just dribbled food into his mouth with his fork, Temari giving him a look of disgust, one of the few looks she gave at meal times, when his voice drifted through the silence, shattering it like glass. "My room is getting messy, "was his calm, cool sentence. Kankuro's spoon dropped into his food, splattering his book and clothes as he looked up in stunned shock. Temari's gaze shifted to him, mouth wide open, body leaning back away from him slightly. Their responses gave him satisfaction. They were afraid of him.

He looked up calmly waiting their reply. "Well you shouldn't have made such a big mess." Temari said, calm under Gaara's gaze, even though she must be terrified inside. Kankuro cleared his throat, looking at the mess he made and making efforts to clean the books pages. "Get a hamper and a trash can, it's what I do." Temari was going to say something, when she felt an itch in her eye. She gave a rub, feeling more irritation, and glanced at Kankuro. There was a very fine, tan haze, or was she imagining things again? She could not see it, it was so fine. Like a mist. But she did see Kankuro rubbing his eye also, frowning, abandoning the books page. Alarm bells rung in both minds as their eyes met, and as one they all turned to look at Gaara, who sat calm and silent through all this. He had his arms folded across his chest, gaze level and meeting both sets of eyes. His eyes were a little different, gold with a diamond in the center and had four dots on either side of the diamond. There was a vague, hunched form surrounding Gaara, and seemed to have some kind of tail lashing about behind him.

The dawning that they were seeing Gaara let this sand wraith partially out, and before their very eyes showed how serious the youngest was. He was slowly letting Shukaku out, and as tendrils drifted from behind him, they both decided they had enough, dinner be damned. Kankuro was the first to react, sliding back in his seat so fast, the chair toppled over as he stood. "I'll start on it right away Gaara, I'll make sure it's very clean." Flashes of Kankuro's crushed, two year old self urged him on faster. Temari, standing also, replied in less sure, slightly shaky tones. "I'll make your bed, though I don't know why you have one, and do your laundry." Gaara gave a growl at the 'don't know why you have one' remark, which quickened her pace out the kitchen. She gave a terrified squeak as a sand tentacle almost grasped her ankle, and made her run up the stairs. Satisfied, he finished his meal, taking his time, and even had a dessert of ice cream.

_**Good times,**_ Gaara thought to himself, frowning despite the thought. He really didn't want this. He wanted to be a normal kid, but that was kind of out of the question, since his father decided to bestow his unborn self with a murdering sand wraith. Outside the window, he saw a group of children playing. They were tossing a paper kunai around, and catching it. He wished he could join, hand touching the curtain and moving it aside. Sorrowful black lidded eyes watched the giggling, happy children. One of them saw him, halted and two slammed into him. One wore a cast on her arm. He hoped they would not see him, as he was on the second floor and the girl he had hurt and called him a monster after slamming the door into his face was there. The one who saw him however, pointed him out. All three looked up, and Gaara gave a sheepish smile and waved, the curtain covering half of his face as it fell back into place. The looks on their faces spoke louder than words ever could have. First was shock that he was watching them, next was confusion and uncertainty. A moment of panic followed a moment of fear and they turned on their heels, fleeing. They ran to the other children, much to the dismay of his heavy heart, and pointed him out. All saw him, all scattered, shouting things he could not hear, and vanishing from by his house to somewhere else. The paper kunai was still on the ground, and he used his sand to bring it up to his room, opening the window and holding it in his hand. Its weight seemed to solidify his path for him, represent how real this all was and cause him to feel more alone than ever.

He closed his curtains, feeling that he was shutting away from others for good by doing this simple act. Turning, he walked towards the bed, and sat on it, hand running over the cover. His brother and sister had apparently been keeping up on cleaning his room, doing his chores twice a day without him having to ask a second time. Somehow this made him all the sadder and he wanted to scream just because he felt like it. But screaming would show he was weak, and if he was going to survive with something of a sanity intact he would have to appear strong and sure of himself. He realized he was clenching his teeth, his hands balling into fists. He grabbed his pillow in one fell swoop, ripping it in half as anger surged through him over the whole situation. Feathers exploded in front of him, drifting down slowly, and reminded him of the angels who were supposedly watching over every single person. He screamed, mentally which brought Shukaku to life, flaring up and lashing out at everything in his room. Glass smashed as his only mirror shattered; sand slammed into the walls, leaving gashes in them, his bed posts broke, toppling over and would have hit him were it not for the sand protecting him. In a matter of seconds, his room was trashed, and he was sobbing lightly in his hands.

He was not softly sobbing for long, as a presence moving towards his room made him halt. Rubbing his eyes, he composed himself, a mask of indifference dropping over his face as the sand swung the door open. Temari and Kakuro stood, about to knock, hesitating when they saw the mess. "Gaara…" Temari began. "Redecorating?" She gave a hesitant chuckle, letting the sound slip out once, twice before the look Gaara gave her silenced her. "You,.. Eh,… did a good job Gaara." Kankuro added, deciding to look at the floor instead of at them. Gaara stood, walking quietly out the doorway, Temari and Kakuro parting to allow him passage as if he was infected with a disease they did not want to catch. "I trust you'll clean all this up." He told them, walking quietly down the stairs, careful that they did see his breaking heart and the pain in his eyes. "He needs a hobby." Temari commented after he was gone, Kankuro nodding agreement and entering the room to begin cleansing it.

The next day was a tense one, his bed replaced by means of their father, who berated him for breaking it to begin with. He had responded by giving his father a sullen glare, and in turn his father saw the evil he infected his son with and since then had been avoiding him. Everyone was avoiding him it seemed, even his siblings. While he felt no particular love for his siblings, he wanted to at least bother them or some such other activity. Kankuro had seen him earlier, and ducked into his room. Temari saw him, and kept walking out the door. Following her, he hesitated when she leapt off into the distance, glancing back once as she left. He felt,. Odd. Sitting on the ground outside he began scratching designs into the dirt, drawing a body wrapped in sand and then next drawing the same body, but with blood squeezed out of them like a piece of fruit. This gave him comfort and he remembered a bit of training Kankuro's teacher told him for when the puppet master in training was bored. 'When bored, create Jutsu.' He began to revise a Jutsu in his own mind that only he could use, closing his eyes to visualize the simple, crude drawing before him. In his mind he saw the victim, he saw him wrap the victim in sand, and saw him clenching his fist in a gesture oddly familiar, and caused the victim to explode in a shower of blood and flesh.

"Gaara?" He heard his sister nearby, and with a start opened his eyes as sand flared around him. Temari had thought Gaara was asleep, for in his visualization he had laid on his side, eyes still closed. Temari was about to either nudge with her toe, or smack him to wake him up. Gaara sat up, looking at her and narrowed his eyes. "Leave me alone, or I'll kill you." He heard his voice say, but knew it wasn't him. Shukaku was afraid of his siblings for some odd reason, and spoke using Gaara's voice. "Gaara, grow up will ya? I went out and bought this, just for you." She thrust a plant forward into his hands, and stepped back, as if worried her words and still bold nature would cause her death and seal her doom. Looking at the plant, he forgot all about Temari's cheekiness and focused on the life before him. He stood, turning, and headed into the house. His room was the first by the top of the hallway, and stepping up the stairs he kept his gaze on the leaves of the plant. Opening his door, his room stripped of all things breakable and quite bare, set it on his dresser.

Gazing at it, he was unaware of how much time had passed, and was thinking on why Temari had given him this plant when he heard a gentle voice behind him, startling him out of his reverie. "You need to water it Gaara." Turning he saw his father, and gave a small sigh. "Why did she get this for me?" He asks, motioning towards it as his father entered and sat beside him on the bed. "Well, maybe she is trying to show you she loves you?" He thought about it and inwardly felt even worse for acting the way he did around them both, though he didn't show it on the outside. "She has a weird way of showing it." Gaara said next. His father seemed to think about it, opting to remain quiet for a moment as Gaara studied his face. "People have a weird way of showing affection, Gaara. Sometimes it is not always obvious, but apparent in everyday gestures like this plant. Giving a plant is a way of expressing you, health and happiness. Just as this plant will grow if you take good enough care of it, she will watch over you and help you grow in her own special way. Do you understand?"

Gaara thought about it, and nodded. He knew what his father was trying to say and asked. "What about Kankuro?" His father sighed, and faced Gaara. "I doubt you remember this, you were only one day old and barely out of the hospital. Kankuro did something very foolish and you almost killed him as a result." As his father spoke, Gaara remembered, seeing his infant form crushing Kankuro and almost kill him. He felt the sorrow etch itself onto his face, looking his palms resting against his leg. "What am I? Am I a monster? Do I not deserve friends or happiness?" his tone matched the sorrow he felt, and as he looked at the Kazekage, he could see many emotions in his face too. "I think it was because I wanted the very best for you, but I couldn't do it to just anyone. I had to use you, my only unborn, or it would have been Kankuro years ago. This gift of the sand spirit is my way of making sure you stay safe and in turn keep your village safe from all attacks when you are older. Gaara, you are blessed with incredible strength, and I know just the person to teach you how to wield all that power." Gaara gave a hopeful smile, and seemed to brighten up till he thought about it. "Who is it? Someone who will run from me?" His father only shook his head no. "No Gaara, I will only have you learn from someone experience and who could handle you. Kankuro's teacher will be the one."

Gaara thought about Baki as his father stood and left him alone. Temari was supposed to start learning as well, but she opted to wait for some odd reason to begin her training. Maybe she was waiting for Gaara to be old enough to start training. That could very well be it, and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Squads were three after all, and Gaara was their third. Standing, feeling alone after his father left, Gaara watered the plant and made sure it was in a spot that got enough light and warmth. Then, moving back to the window, he hesitated in pulling the curtains aside, and instead turned away from the window. Sitting aside his bed, he waited for dinner to be served. He saw an image in the corner, an image of Temari playing with a normal version of himself, the hallucination a first for him, and making him ache for what could have been.


End file.
